


Hold Me While You Wait

by Elvendork



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 23:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20016700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvendork/pseuds/Elvendork
Summary: For the prompt "I'm better when I'm with you", from prettybirdy979 on tumblr.Aziraphale needs some time to adjust to their new positions, after everything. That's okay; so does Crowley.





	Hold Me While You Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prettybirdy979](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/gifts).



> Named after the Lewis Capaldi song. (I like naming things after songs.)
> 
> _I'm waiting up, saving all my precious time  
>  Losing light, I'm missing my same old us_

Every so often Aziraphale will say something he immediately regrets, and he has to backtrack and apologise or double down on his point. So far, his track record is holding at around fifty-fifty. 

Usually it is harmless. He snaps without thinking, says something he clearly doesn't mean but which they will both forget soon enough, and it doesn't matter. 

Sometimes, though, he says truly awful things. Hurtful things. He doesn't mean to. He just  _ does _ it, and then he sees that terrible wounded look on Crowley's face in the moment before his friend throws the walls back up. The guilt is a gnawing, angry thing; worse now than it ever was before the averted apocalypse because now he has no excuse, no Heaven to hide behind, and he is  _ still doing it.  _

Like now. Aziraphale is sniffling into his handkerchief, absorbed utterly in the film, until he spots Crowley's expression. He is not watching the screen, but Aziraphale, and his lips are quirked in something like amusement. Aziraphale feels suddenly self-conscious, and lashes out. 

'Oh stop it,' he says, stuffing the handkerchief roughly into his pocket. 'I wouldn't expect _ you _ to understand -' 

He cuts himself off, but not soon enough. Crowley's expression changes, closes off. Now he just looks tired. 

'I'm sorry,' Aziraphale says immediately. 'I didn't mean that.'

'Right.' Crowley braces his hands on his thighs as though he is about to stand; Aziraphale reaches out automatically to stop him. 

'Please, Crowley. I really am sorry.' 

'Look, angel,' Crowley huffs a deep sigh through his nose. 'If you don't want me here, just say it.'

'No!' Aziraphale grabs at Crowley's hand desperately. 'No, I  _ do  _ want you here, really I do. It's just…' He scowls and gestures to the television to switch it off. Without its dim flickering light, they are plunged into near darkness, which somehow makes the next part more manageable. 

'It's difficult,' Aziraphale admits quietly. 'I keep expecting Heaven to… Well, I - I keep forgetting, that's all. That we have… This. That I can. You know.'

Damn and bless and blast him, Crowley  _ does  _ know. It doesn't make his next decision any easier. He makes the offer with his eyes closed, even though he knows Aziraphale can hardly see him in this light anyway. It is not being seen he is concerned about right now, but doing the seeing.

'If you need time to adjust,' he says slowly, 'I can give you that.' His fingers twitch with the urge to wrap them around Aziraphale's hand, where it still lies preventing his retreat. Or at least discouraging it; Crowley could still easily leave if he wanted to. (He doesn't want to.)

'No,' says Aziraphale again, more softly this time. 'No, I… I'm better when I'm with you. I know it might not seem like it, but I am. And I  _ am  _ trying, my dear. Really I am. I  _ do  _ need time… But I would rather that time was with you.'

Crowley stops resisting; he turns his hand beneath Aziraphale's so that they are palm to palm and intertwines their fingers. 

'Good,' Crowley replies, talking to their linked hands. He looks up; wonders if Aziraphale can see his eyes; decides it doesn't matter. He takes a deep (unnecessary but nevertheless shaky) breath. 'I'm better when I'm with you, too.' He admits. He says it so quietly that, for all the room is otherwise silent and Aziraphale is listening intently, the angel still has to strain to hear.

'Well then,' Aziraphale begins; his voice is smug but trembling, commanding but uncertain. 'We'll just have to stick together, won't we?' 

If Crowley's answering smile is far too fond to be on the face of any self-respecting demon, well, it's not like anyone can see it. 

'I suppose we will, angel.' He flicks the television back on and leans into the sofa cushions (tilting just ever so slightly to his right; not far enough to actually touch Aziraphale's shoulder, but enough that he  _ could,  _ if he chose to). They will have to talk more later, but for now… This is enough. For now, they are enough. 'I suppose we will.'

**Author's Note:**

> _Tell me more, tell me something I don't know  
>  Could we come close to having it all?_


End file.
